“I don’t know which wave to poem,” he said
“There are so many words coming, all the time
I must be careful where I position this rhyme
I must not speak ill of the living or the dead
Because no one likes negativity, unless veiled
In innuendo of perspicuity, and I can’t be too smart
so I shouldn’t have said perspicuity, or claim high art
And If I claim low art, alone, they’ll think I failed
I must speak only in feelings and cautiously,
lest I turn off all these tides, those going and coming.”
That is what he said, and I told him this about poeming:
“Pick your waters and choose standing stones bravely
If you don’t swim to make waves and to push
The waves will swim over you like a rush.”